Waste not, want not

I’m sensitive to wasteful habits. This is why I have a particular distaste for Vegas. I have a hard time coming to terms with the gazillion watts of flashing lights, the platefuls of uneaten buffet food and, of course, the money that more often than not disappears into slot machines or dealers’ hands.

It’s just as agitating to spot waste on a smaller scale. My husband knows this. That’s why he’s careful to switch off lights when he leaves a room and knows not to wander too far away while waiting for running water to warm up. He knows that not respecting resources will ignite a fury within me that would scare even the Grim Reaper.

The problem is I have to keep this fury in check at work, where there is waste aplenty.

I’ve kept my mouth shut and my hands to myself in the ladies restroom, where women leisurely dry their hands while keeping the water running, just so they can use their wet paper towel to turn off the faucet.

I’m also full of guilt and remorse when I let my mind imagine the fate of leftover food from the cafeteria, or the scores of trash bags filled with Styrofoam plates and unrecycled plastics.

One Response to “Waste not, want not”

Uh yeah. At my office they live in the dark ages. They print emails out and file them. Multiple times. It’s not uncommon for me to find four copies of the same 50-page email in a file. It’s mindless waste, I tell you!

Minal is…

a 31-year-old Californian living in Missouri. She has four handsome cats and a furry husband. And she is happy.